


Hot Water, a Locked Door, and Him

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [50]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Affection, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Love, Showers, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: You like showering. You like the peace and the comfort and the process. You also happen to like it when Loki joins you. (This is a little more suggestive than other lullabies, but there is no smut and I try not to be especially explicit. I mean...you're showering.)
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 11
Kudos: 176





	Hot Water, a Locked Door, and Him

The shower was a sanctuary for you. You’d always loved the way it felt to shut yourself into an exceedingly-warm shower, where you could hide behind a curtain and let the water come pelting down on you even as steam began to billow. Bath products were one of your guiltiest of pleasures when it came to spending money: it was hard to resist an especially-fragrant soap or shampoo or body wash, and you rarely did. You liked to keep your showers peaceful. You didn’t often bother with music or any other kind of distraction in the shower: you could easily lose yourself in the rich scent and lather of one of your products, and let yourself imagine being somewhere else. A garden of beautiful, alien flowers, perhaps. 

When you were finished, whether you showered in the morning or the evening, you felt incredible when you stepped out to dry off. You felt ready for whatever came next: buckling down to get work done or snuggling deep under your covers and drifting off to sleep. It was one of the constants throughout your life: the way the water seemed to snap you back into yourself and reset...everything.

When the world shut down and Loki came to join you, it was difficult, but you’d managed to cut down on the amount of time you spent in the water. As a general rule, you’d always tried not to go longer than half an hour, but you knew perfectly well that even _that_ long was far longer than normal people. Maybe Loki didn’t know much about the average human’s shower habits, but you were strangely worried that he’d notice how long you took and say something about it.

One night, after an especially stressful day with far too many video meetings and, quite frankly, an absurd number of emails marked Urgent, you slipped into the bathroom to unwind. Loki was reading quietly on the sofa, and had barely even looked up at you when you kissed him on the cheek and told him where you were going. He was fine. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you let yourself linger here tonight.

As soon as you stepped under the spray, you sighed. The heat from the water instantly soaked into your skin to ease the tension in your muscles. You let yourself just stand there for a while, your head tipped forwards, enjoying the peace. Showers were at once quiet and loud, with the rush of the water drowning out everything else. Beautiful. 

After a while, you finally straightened a bit and reached for a bottle of shampoo. When you didn’t have to rush through things, you liked to almost meditate on the process of cleaning yourself. You focused on the lather in your hair almost like you were in a commercial. The bright, clean scent filled the shower.

You had barely finished rinsing off when you heard the door open. The quiet click was almost lost under the sound of the water, but you heard it anyway. Loki called your name and shut the door behind him. Before long, his face was peeping around the curtain, and he smiled at you. 

“May I join you, darling?” He kept his eyes fixed on your face. That was yet another thing you loved about him. In the middle of...intimacy, he could look at you with such a heated look on his face that it always made you blush, seemingly down to the tips of your toes, but during more simple moments, like this, he never made you uncomfortable. 

Maybe that was why you nodded at him. He put the curtain back in place, and you listened to the sounds of him undressing. He took his time. Though you couldn’t see him through the curtain, you imagined the way his beautiful fingers would slide along the hem of his shirt, the waistband of his pants. Your mind conjured up images of his skin slowly being exposed as his clothing dropped away from him. By the time he was finished, and stepping through the curtain to join you, the heat in your face had nothing to do with the water.

You reached to adjust the temperature a bit—you liked your showers hotter than he did—and felt him press himself against your back. His hands slid along your body, tracing your hips, your waist, the gentle swell of your belly. When you shivered, he pressed his face against the side of your neck and held you a little more tightly. 

“You smell wonderful,” he growled against you. You felt him kiss your neck, then bite it gently. He always knew exactly how to make your knees go wobbly beneath you. Still, you laughed—a little unsteadily—and patted his hand.

“I haven’t even washed yet!” You tried, but not particularly hard, to turn around in his arms. He held you tight, his skin growing warm against you. As innocently as he touched you at times like these, there was still something incredibly sensual about the way he felt. You’d never fight very hard to get away from him.

Eventually, he did release you, and you turned to face him and slide your arms around his neck. You gazed up at him for who knows how long, just...drinking in the sight of him. He was beautiful. Maybe you’d never be able to get over that. Shadows played across his face, but his eyes did not once stop shining warmly at you. When you stretched up onto your tiptoes so you could kiss him, he followed your lead and bent down to meet you. You kissed slowly, sweetly, the heated press of his tongue against yours an even match for the water that flowed around you. He was intoxicating. All it took, all it ever took, was a single look, a single touch, a single kiss, and you were gone. 

It was hard to say exactly how long you lost yourself in him, but there was no rush. Your kiss was not demanding or hungry, only...needy. Intimate. It was safe to give yourself over to him, because he accepted you each time with the same open desire. And you often recognized the look in his eyes as the one that you also felt. He splayed his fingers apart on the small of your back, pressing you closer like he couldn’t get enough of you. You dragged your teeth along his lower lip as you broke the kiss. 

You took turns washing each other. You worked your shampoo into a rich lather in his hair, fascinated as always by the contrast between the bubbles and his jet black hair. He always bent forward so you could reach more easily without your even having to ask. When you rinsed his hair, he never teased you for the way you could get lost in him, the way you smoothed your fingers through the silk of his hair just so you could watch the way it moved. When you were finished applying conditioner, he took the bottle from you and returned the favor. 

When he ran your bath puff along your skin, his touch was desirous without being...lecherous. As always, he made you feel beautiful, wanted. Even better, it felt genuine. He wasn’t playing a part because he thought you wanted that. In the past, you’d had lovers who’d made you want to shrink away from their attention and theatrics, but he only ever made you long for him. When you gave in, he always rewarded you beyond measure. You took the puff from him and added more soap, and finally, finally, gave in to your base desire to touch him. It was hard to know for certain if you made him feel the same way he did you, but you knew for a fact that he did things to you. You allowed yourself to trace the lines of his muscles, the curves and dips. It was like he was sculpted from marble by a brilliant Master in the Renaissance, but...better, because he could wrap himself around you. When you guided water over his skin to rinse the suds away, you followed its path with your mouth, peppering reverent kisses all over his body. You’d never been overly religious, but his body was like a sacrament. He gazed down at you with undeniable adoration in his face. 

When you’d both finished touching each other, cleaning each other, he pulled you once more into a warm embrace and simply let the water come down around you. Alone, your shower was a sanctuary. With him, it was a baptism. Still without speaking, you turned off the water. The room felt empty of sound, though it remained full of heat. And love. You took turns drying one another, between fierce embraces and hungry kisses. Then he took your hand in his, drew it up to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to your skin, and looked up at you. There was a familiar glint in his eyes. Something coiled low in your belly and you let yourself smile at him.

He pulled you towards the bedroom, and you followed him without question.


End file.
